Sick of Shadows
by xxWickedWench
Summary: Flicker Allen was never good at facing her fears. But, of her own accord, she returns to Manhattan to face the demons and the shadows she had gladly left behind a year ago. But it could be difficult, since a magician never reveals her secrets.
1. Chapter One

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

_I was shocked, to say the least, when he had followed me outside after that party, smiling quietly from under his hat like he did. It was alluring, and I was sorry I'd found myself attracted to him. I'd heard stories, gotten warnings from the boys of his behavior. But I wasn't so sure; I wanted to see for myself if he was anything like the boys said he was._

_So when he pushed me against the hard, cold brick and mortar and attacked my mouth with his own, I knew I was in deep. I had never, ever been kissed by a boy, ever in my life. I was a sixteen year old girl living in 1898; what did you expect? But being pressed up against this brick wall, kissing this boy, I felt reckless, and it was the most deliciously satisfying feeling. So I did what any naïve, stupid girl would do: I kissed him back._

_This happened, over and over, for three months. Three months of groping, stroking, kissing, grasping. He'd corner me outside the Lodging House, get his fill of me and then leave to buy his papes. He'd follow me out of Tibby's, drag me to an alley just so he could satisfy himself until that night when he knew I would open my window and let him inside, just like I always did, just like I always would._

_But then, one day in April, he pulled me aside outside the Lodging House. He looked flighty and nervous, which was odd on his face._

"_Is everything okay?" I asked nervously. Worry looked misplaced on his handsome face. He was never worried about anything. "Did I do something wrong?" Why did my brain always go to that?_

"_No, Katie," he said harshly, and then sighed. "Ah... I mean Flick. No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just…"_

"_What?" I asked, desperate for a response. Was he going to break up with me? Would he go back to Dreamer again?_

_So, instead of breaking up with me, he pulled me into his arms. I stood stiff and rigid in his embrace. _Embrace. _I rolled the word around my tongue, testing it. He was... _hugging_ me. He never_ hugged_ me._

_There was many things he did to me, and hugs were not one of those things. I blinked in shock, my face pressed against the plaid of his shirt. He held me tighter, if that were possible, and I could feel his hands trembling at the small of my back._

"_I'm so sorry, Flick."_

_He was whispering against my shoulder, holding me steadfastly against him. I was shocked, and disturbed, and a little creeped out. He kissed my shoulder, even though my blouse was in the way._

"_You're… sorry?" I whispered back, still not hugging him back. Hugging was foreign. Hugging was not something he and I did. Ever. Not even once._

"_We do all this things we shouldn't," he said softly, leaning back, staring at me with those mesmerizing cerulean eyes of his. "And I don't even talk to you."_

_Shocked, I stumbled over my words. "It's okay—"_

"_It's not okay, Flick!" he exclaimed so suddenly that it made me flinch in surprise. He never rose his voice with me. "I'm not supposed to like you, Flick. Not like this, I mean. I wanted you badly at first. You were so _innocent_, and it made me crazy." He stopped talking to twirl a dark strand of my hair around his finger, a smile tugging at his lips. "But I can't get you out of my head. You're addicting."_

_He attacked my mouth again, his hand gripping the back of my neck in his intensity, pulling us closer together. I momentarily forgot what we were talking about, lost in his mouth — literally. When he pulled away, he was smiling in that charming way he always did._

"_I'm addicted to you, too."_

_He pulled me back into the Lodging House then, and didn't sell that day, because by the time he was finished, all the papers were gone._

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Flicker smiled lightly, like she was trying to smile under the strain of a great weight that she was forced to carry on her back. And that's what it felt like. She carried her baggage around like dead weight, and sometimes it was suffocating.

Cold.

He was ice. Stiff, angry, gluttonous, and full of displaced rage. He was a walking cadaver; a ghost with a beating heart. For all intents and purposes, he wasn't even real. Just a figment of everyone's imagination. Spinner was the worst thing that ever happened to her, and yet, every time she thought about him too much, she wanted to cry. _Damn him for doing this to me,_ she thought bitterly.

"How was your train ride, Miss Allen?" an oversized, overworked house mother of sorts asked her. She looked bored, and couldn't have possibly cared whether or not Flick had a nice train ride or not.

The only reason she ever had an apartment with her tenement building is because of Max Malini. She always saved Flick's old room for her, when they stayed in New York, because he used his name and his clout to keep it open. Something about that old room just felt right. Granted, the room used to hold her and Spinner and their various adventures and excursions, but still. She liked the stability of it; the way it was always there.

She liked the squeaky floorboard in front of her bed, she liked how her window never opened the whole way and got stuck near the top. She had been traveling for most of her life, so anything stable she scooped up readily and held onto it tightly. But she was a performer first, and an orphan second.

"_Katie... well, ya see, me and Dreamer have been gettin' along much better lately. So, I think we should stop this. I'm not good for you, and you ain't good for me. I'm sorry."_

She set her case down at the side of the bed and stared at the neatly made bed, sighing as she looked around the expanse of the familiar room. It was a cookie-cutter type of room; perfectly square, bed shoved in the middle, chest of drawers on the east wall beside the only window, the door to the washroom on the south wall, and a bedside table with a lamp and three drawers underneath. It was like a hotel.

Granted, Flick would have loved to stay at something extravagant like The Dakota, having heard all the grand stories about how famous actors and actresses stayed there while touring the city, but her old room suited her just fine. It was just going to be her, since she didn't plan on getting back with Spinner at all, no matter how tempting he was, and he was very tempting.

Without giving herself time to unpack things, Flick left her things in her old room and shuffled straight out of the big, hulking tenement building that was planted front and center in the middle of the East Side, a lovely little place she was fond of. New York was the only home she ever knew. She had a great many friends, and Manhattan was, thankfully, not where Spinner normally resided.

She hopped a trolley in the Lower East Side, paid for her way, and sat down as it made its way towards Brooklyn. Flick soaked the familiar sights up with her eyes, smiling happily as she took them all in, as overwhelmed as she'd felt the first time she reached New York. It was a grand place, the city. She'd grown up in the slums of Boston, in an orphanage that could barely be called so. Flick had only ever heard about Boston proper, never having the guts to pick up and run away.

Flick was not adventurous by design. In fact, she fancied herself a little boring. But she a heightened sense for trouble. Trouble, it seemed, followed so close on her back, and there was no way to shake it off. Max Malini, her guardian and magician extraordinaire, always teased her about it, and said it was the only reason he liked her. She had a spark, it seemed, that he rather liked about her.

As the trolley neared the Bowery, where she was headed, Flick hopped off it and padded up to the Bowery Theater. It wasn't her favorite place to perform, however, being so incredibly close to the Five Points, but it was a favorite of Max's, having been raised in the Bowery, so she braved the disturbing feelings she got when she came. The place was all ready packed, patrons chattering excitedly about how exciting vaudeville entertainment was.

Flick elbowed her way through the bodies, smiling demurely around herself as she headed for the door that led backstage. Anne, the stage manager, gripped Flick's upper arms when she noticed her. Anne was a stout, sweet-faced woman with a small temper towards things that didn't go her way, but a heart of gold. Anne was consistently Flicker's favorite stage manager from all the places they'd performed, and they'd been on quite a few vaudeville stages.

"Goodness, would you look at her?" Anne said, in her thick south London accent. "A bit peaky, I see. Does that man never feed you?"

Flick blushed. "I haven't eaten all day. I've been nervous about returning to New York."

Anne nodded, and her voice lowered. "Is that _boy_ going to be here tonight?"

"No, Ma," Flicker said playfully. "I haven't talked to him in a year."

This seemed to satisfy Anne and she patted Flick on the cheek affectionately. "Well, good riddance, I say. That boy was Trouble with a capital T. You are much better off without him."

"I am trying to believe that myself," Flick said honestly. _He may be Trouble, but I loved him. He loved me, too. I just know it. He had to have. Why else would he have kept coming back to me?_

Anne offered a wrinkled smile, turned and began barking orders to the stagehands. Flick sighed and walked to her dressing room to get changed. Once she was laced up in her corset and a rather pretty dress made almost entirely of grape-colored chiffon, she stepped from the room and looked around nervously.

That's when she saw him.

Strolling down the hallway, looking the very picture of self-absorbency, was Max Malini, in his cape and walking stick. He was young, however, but he rather fit into the image he created for himself. When he noticed Flick, he stopped, took her hand, and kissed her gloved knuckles.

"I'm so glad you could make it, my dear," he said, peeking up at her playfully. "Will you be sitting in my box this evening for the performance?"

He was such a skilled actor! He took on so many personalities that it was rather hard to keep up with them all.

Flick nodded. "I will, kind sir. How lovely of you to have asked me," she said, in a most ridiculous way to match his act.

Max laughed and straightened up. "You are my good luck charm, Miss Katie. Of that, I am certain," he told her. "Now then, you are nervous, yes?" Without waiting to hear her answer, he produced a worn deck of cards and grinned up at her.

It was the first trick he'd ever done for her, and it had become a staple in their relationship. Right before a performance, he would do the card trick for her, and have a successful night performing. Only once did he not have time to do the trick of her. Needless to say, it never happened again.

"Will you never tire of this trick, darling?" Max teased her, holding the deck of cards out to her.

Flick shook her head. "Never," she confirmed, and placed her palm on the top of the deck, waiting for a few seconds as she thought of a card, and then removed it.

He spread the cards out between his two hands, peered down at the cards, and then plucked one out, holding it out to her. With a smile, Flick turned the card over and the Queen of Hearts stared back at her.

"How do you always know where this card is?" Flick sighed, handing the card back to him. "You've rigged that deck, I swear you have."

"Darling, you've looked at the deck yourself one hundred times!" Max laughed. "No rigging required. I am simply a genius."

Flicker sighed again, enjoying the old argument between them. Then the thought hit her. "You know, Max, I thought you didn't enjoy vaudeville bills. Why are we here? I never got to ask."

"Ah, but I am top bill tonight, darling," Max told her, bowing with a flourish. "Top bill or the highway, I always say!"

Flick rolled her eyes. "You never say that, Max, but thank you for answering my question."

Max left her be then and Flick ducked back out the door, walking up the stairs to get to the boxes that sat above the regular patron seats. She sat down slowly, bored out of her mind until Max took the stage. She'd always been fascinated by magic, and she'd learned a few tricks in her time with him, but she'd never be as good as him.

His stage presence was nothing she'd ever seen before. He talked everyone's ear off and before you knew it, the trick as done and everyone was amazed. Flick grinned in spite of herself as everyone applauded the performance. It was sad, since the people in the back couldn't appreciate his talent. Max was a close-up magician, and you couldn't fully appreciate his greatness until you saw his shows up close.

Suddenly, she was tapped on the shoulder. Flick blinked a few times and turned to see the familiar face of Swifty, her best friend, holding out a red rose for her. With a gasp, she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He laughed and hugged her back.

"Couple 'a guys saw you was back in town, Flicker, and I came to see if ya wanted to come back to the Lodgin' House for old times sake," Swifty said softly against her ear, since the show was still going on, though Max's act was finished.

Flick didn't even think about it. "Sure thing. Just let me change, and we can go."


	2. Chapter Two

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

"So, where have you been, Flick?" Swifty asked as they walked – slowly, mind you – so they could talk and catch up. "It's been almost – what? – a year, right?"

Flicker nodded slightly and then looked over at him, having changed into her plain blue dress again, the ratty old thing. It had definately been a year – a year of traveling and performing, learning the art of illusion and sleight of hand. Magic still, even to this day, impressed her.

But it was the reason that she left that was the hardest to spit out. It was embarrassing to think that she left because some boy – that she was pre-informed was that not good for her – did her wrong. It wasn't anyone's fault but her own, really, and that was what hurt the most about coming back to New York.

"_...I'm not good for you, and you ain't good for me..."_

Well, Spinner was right about that. They were quite possibly the most dysfunctional relationship in all of New York. He fed off of her, and she fed off of him. There was no love. Or was there?

The lines had blurred and Flick didn't know how she was supposed to feel. But she felt that hollow feeling each and every time he left her for Dreamer – the air-headed bitch that didn't know how to take him, and shrunk back from him when he yelled. Dreamer was not his right match, because she didn't challenge him. Dreamer was just a cute girl.

Flick was the one that made him work. She got right back in his face when he yelled. Though Flick wondered if that was the reason Spinner left her for good. Spinner didn't want something serious; he wanted sex.

"I've been everywhere, Swifty," Flick said suddenly, realizing she hadn't answered his question and he was now peering at her expectantly. "All over the country. And Max wants to head to England, to perform for the queen."

"No kiddin'? That's great, Flick!" Swifty said cheerfully.

Flick nodded her agreement and smiled. "It is, isn't it?" She paused thoughtfully. "How is Manhattan? What have I missed?"

Swifty grinned. "I'll let Jack tell you that story. It's a very good one."

They reached the Lodging House then and headed inside first when Swifty held the door open for her. Apparently there was some get-together, or Manhattan had gained at least one hundred new newsies.

"Ahem!" Swifty cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention.

It was funny to Flick, watching everyone quit what they were doing to look in Swifty's direction. There was a very pregnant silence and then cheering as the oldies that knew her came up to shake her hand and welcome her back.

"I was wonderin' when you'd grace us with your presence again, Flick," Jack said, ever the charmer, as he gave her a low bow.

"I was wonderin' when you'd make it to Santa Fe," she shot back and then flung her arms around his neck when he straightened up.

"Still dreamin', Flick dear," Jack assured her and then held her back, to get a good look at her. "You look healthy, dollface, and real good."

"Hey, Jack! Is this your magician friend Flick?" a little boy asked, having come run up to Jack, staring up at him as if he had the face of God. An older boy was a few paces right behind him.

"Sure is, Les," Jack told him. "Flick, this is Les and David, some good friends that I met while you was away."

Flick smiled slightly when David stared at her and then knelt down to be eye level with Les. "You heard I was a magician, huh?"

"Jack told me," Les informed her. "Will you do a trick?"

Flicker straightened back up and blushed. "Well, I dunno."

"Oh, come on, Flick. Show us up," Swifty told her, laughing.

A few boys around them clamored in to agree, and Flick was cowed under the prodding to do a trick, so she agreed.

"All right. One little trick," she said, grinning. "Racetrack! Have you got a deck of cards I can borrow?"

"Oh, yeah, borrow from Race," Mush said, rolling his eyes but grinning at Flick.

"Shove off, ya bum," Race replied and handed Flick his worn deck.

The boys crowded all around as Flick casually shuffled her cards, smiling slightly. She spread them all out in her hands and then bent to Les again, grinning at him. "Pick a card, and show everyone but me."

Les plucked a card from those held out to him, peered at it and then turned to show the boys. He turned back around and held it close to his chest.

Flick smiled. "Now put it back wherever you want."

He did so and Flick made a show of re-shuffling the cards. She plucked the top card and showed it to Les. "Is this your card?" she asked.

Les blinked. "No."

Flicker shuffled the cards again, a bit more violently, and then picked another. "Is _this_ your card?"

Again, it was not.

This happened for another four times, Flick getting consistently angry each time the card was denied. With a growl of rage, Flick threw the cards at the ceiling, cards raining down on everyone's head. The entire room was silent.

"I thought you were good at magic," Les said quietly.

Flick grinned. "Look at the ceiling."

Every head tilted to look at the ceiling, and there indeed was Les' eight of diamonds stuck to the ceiling of the Lodging House. Cheers eruppted and Flick blushed.

"Am I good magician now?" Flick teased Les as he hugged her.

"Yes, you are!" he shouted.

Flicker smiled and went on her way, greeting old friends and being introduced to new ones. Manhattan had to have been the most welcoming place she'd ever been in. Here, she wasn't silly Boston orphan girl. Here, she was Flicker Allen, magician extraordinaire.

"So, Flick, finally come back to admit you're in love with me?" a very familiar voice asked her from behind.

Flick smirked and turned to face Brooklyn himself, putting a hand on her hip. "Spot Conlon, please contain your ego. It's suffocating us all," she told him. "Now get your ass over here and hug me."

When he didn't move, Flick leaned forward and hugged him tightly. "How have you been, Conlon? Did I miss anything important?"

Without giving her an answer, Spot straightened up slightly as he was joined by an incredibly beautiful girl. She was dressed like a boy, with her light hair stuffed up inside her beat up old cap. She had the most intense green eyes Flick had ever seen, not minty marbles, more like jade. She was beautiful.

"Flicky, doll, this here is Angel," Spot introduced, looking quite proud.

"No kidding," Flick agreed.

The girl – Angel – blushed. "Why does everyone have that reaction to my name?' she questioned aloud and then spat in her hand, offering it to Flick. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Swifty hasn't stopped talking about you, and I've been anxious to finally meet you myself. I've heard many wonderful stories. Your trick was clever as hell, by the way."

Flick blinked a few times, spitting in her own palm to shake with this Boticelli's angel come to life. "Thank you. That means so much," she said, tripping over her tongue slightly. "Are you a newsie, then?"

Angel nodded and then smiled. "I am. Spot says you two were quite good friends. I hope you'd come round to Brooklyn while you're here."

Flick nodded. "Yes, we were good friends. No matter what he says, Conlon isn't an animal."

"Ain't that the truth," Angel agreed and then touched Flick's elbow affectionately. "I suppose I should let you mingle, since you've been gone so long. Please don't be a stranger."

"I definitely won't," Flick assured her. "Thank you very much."

Angel gave a parting smile and then ducked through the crowd again, probably to find Mr. Conlon again, who had mysteriously vanished once she'd shown up. Flick shook her head slightly and then continued to mingle with her old friends until she was exhausted. She retired to the staircase and sat down, her feet and throat sore. Her temple was thumping slightly from all the excitement.

Les' brother came to sit down beside her and she smiled at him. "David, right?"

He nodded. "That's right," he agreed. "How long have you known Jack?"

Flick grinned. "Long enough."

David laughed. "I agree. So are you sticking around for a while?"

"Yes," she said. "I have some old ghosts I need to face. I ran away last year because I couldn't face them, I think."

"And now?' he asked.

"Now..." she paused. "I am still not ready, but something had to be done, you know? I don't want to carry things I ought not to."

"That's very wise of you," David said, looking at his hands.

Flick nodded slowly. "David, have you got a penny?"

"Sure," David said, producing a penny for her.

She smiled sweetly and made a huge show with her hands after taking the penny from him. She then offered it back to him.

"This penny had two heads and no tails," David noticed, shocked. "How did you do that?"

Flicker grinned. "A magician never reveals her secrets."

Such truer words had never been spoken.

* * *

_**Okay. I posted two chapters at a time for this simply because I'd posted the first chapter up a bit back, so some of you'se guys have read it previously, which is why I wrote a second and posted them together.**_

_**Don't you just love me? ;) This is sort of a sister story to Angel and Spot's. Same universe if you will. All my old characters will be back, because I simply cannot let them go. ;)**_

_**Love me with a review or two?**_

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked.**_

_**P.S. - Previously called LOVE LIKE WINTER. New angle of the story, means new title that fits better. :)**_


	3. Chapter Three

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

Flicker Allen had forgotten how badly she missed Manhattan, until she returned to the Lodging House and saw all her favorite boys again. Swifty, of course, she missed the most. He was always there when Spinner dragged her through the ice yet again.

And it wasn't just the fact that Spinner had shoved his hand through the cave of her chest, ripping through bone and marrow and stabbed at her all ready fragile heart. It was his words that hurt the most. When he was drunk, he wasn't Spinner. There was a dragon lurking under his skin, shifting quietly when not filled with alcohol or anything else.

Spinner was an addict and a damn heavy one at that. He'd walk all the way from Brooklyn to the Points, just to visit Chin's and get his fix for a while. Flick hated that. Opium. The vile drug. It took businessmen and blue collars alike. It was a selfish bitch.

And Dreamer. The stupid whore. And speaking of...

"Flicker! Good God, I can't believe you're back!" Dreamer exclaimed as she stepped out of the Lodging House to embrace Flick, who was leaning against the outside of it, inhaling night air.

Flick sighed and embraced the poor airhead back. "Hello, Dreamer."

Dreamer was the Victorian Era standard. Fair hair, pale skin, dainty body, tiny, tidy corsetted waist. She was good for cooking, cleaning, and producing children. She had no mind of her own. She was a product of the harsh rules that governed the time, and she thought nothing of it. Born of a middle class, sufficiently well-off family, Dreamer was sweet, kind, caring, and loveable. She was perfect, wore lovely clothing, tied ribbons in her hair, and worked as a seamstress.

She was everything Flicker was not.

Flick was loud and uncaring, though she had a heart of gold. She was a magician by trade, and the stage was her lover. She traveled, never stayed in once place for more than a few months, and simply just 'got by' in her work. She wore less-than-adequate dresses, refused a corset, and hung around newsboys, whom everyone knew as common thieves and street filth.

The thing Flick hated about Dreamer was that she was not a bitch. It would make things so much easier if Dreamer had a holier-than-thou attitude, and it would make it easier to hate her. On the contrary, there was nothing wrong with Dreamer. She was just a girl that got caught up in Spinner, just like Flick did.

If a person tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, and then you tripped over the same one a few minutes later, who would be at fault? The person at fault is the one who would continue to turn around and be tripped up in the crack. Sadly, both Dreamer and Flick had done this very thing, even so far as to shove each other out of the way to get to the crack. Flick had no one to blame but herself.

And, boy, did she blame herself.

Coming out of her thoughts, she realized that Dreamer was still prattling on about something. Goodness, Flick hadn't been listening. Fantastic. However, a fair head poked out around the door and smiled at Dreamer.

"Dreamer, I think someone's lookin' for ya inside," Angel said and watched as Dreamer excused herself sweetly and then ducked back inside.

Flick sighed. "Thanks. I owe you."

Angel stepped out into the cool air and produced a very sad looking cigarette from her trouser pocket. She stuck it between her lips and went on rummaging for a match. "Eh, consider it my peace offering. I like you, so holding things over your head ain't gonna be for either of our benefits. Besides, knowing me, I'll forget."

With a breath of relief, Angel struck a match on the side of her shoe and light her cigarette, leaning against the wall beside Flick. "Sorry if I was interrupting. You just looked like you were hoping the ground would swallow you. I know that look well."

"Your accent is funny. It sounds Scottish," Flick said thoughtfully.

"Close. Irish," Angel said, shrugging. "I keep it hidden. Irish people are not readily accepted in some places."

"Well it's good to be around the newsies. They accept everyone," Flick said, smiling.

"That they do," Angel agreed. "So have you known Jack long?"

Why did everyone keep asking her this? "Yeah. I came from a Boston orphanage when I was really young. My caretaker, Max Malini, got me out when I was very small when I told him I wanted to learn magic. Max lived in the Bowery when he was younger, so we were always around here. I met Jack soon after."

Angel smiled. "Can I tell you a secret?" At Flick's nod, she continued. "When I first met Jack, I had the biggest crush on him."

Flick's jaw dropped. "You're kidding! So did I!"

"I think it's just because he's charming," Angel said, looking like she was trying to hide a blush. "He _is_ quite charming."

"Yes, he is," Flick agreed and both girls burst out laughing.

How nice it was to find commonplace with this angel in the flesh. Flick made a note to mosey to Brooklyn sometime, to see her again. Only thing wrong with that, is she'd have to see Spinner. Ugh. Not something she looked forward to.

Flicker calmed herself and then watched Angel smoke. "I cannot believe you're wearing pants. Don't you get such hassle for it?"

Angel thought for a second and then shook her head. "You'd think I would, wouldn't you? People think that girls that wear trousers are unladylike and whatnot. But I'll have to know that I can't wait to see the day when girls demand to wear trousers instead of dresses. It shall be because of me." She grinned at Flick.

Both girls looked over to the door, however, to see Spot Conlon stroll out into the night air. "Come on, Angel. Got a bit of a walk back," Spot told her, and then smirked at Flick. "Always welcome in Brooklyn, Allen. Remember that."

Angel pushed her cigarette out against the wall and then poked her head in the doorway again. "Hey, Emily! Get your ass out here and say goodbye to me. We're leaving."

"Angel, I swear to God, you call me Emily outloud one more time, I will kick your ass from here to Brooklyn and back," a girl said, stalking out of the Lodging House, giving Angel the stink eye.

She was pretty, as all these girls seemed to be, with dark hair and dark blue eyes. She was pretty like Angel was pretty, but Flick thought most girls were attractive in their own right.

"Calm down, Pip. It's the only way I can get your attention," Angel said, shrugging and then hugged her friend.

"Yeah, well. Until the day you're fine with everyone round here calling you 'Lissa' then you can't call me Emily," the girl, Pip, said.

"Deal," Angel agreed and they made a show of shaking on it.

Eventually, Flick waved goodbye and watched the couple saunter casually down the sidewalk, talking amongst themselves. She sighed and then ducked back inside the Lodging House. Dreamer waved to her excitedly from the other side of the room, which Flick returned with a half-wave of her own, before she slumped on the ground beside Swifty.

Grinning, Swifty draped his arm around her shoulders and Flick sagged slightly against him. "Having fun?"

Flick nodded. "It's a little overwhelming, though. Sometimes I forget how long I've been gone."

"Well, I'm glad you're back, Flick," Swifty told her, grinning.

"Thanks," Flick said and smiled at him.

After a while, Flick decided to mosey on home as well. It was getting late and the boys had to get up early to work the next day. Swifty walked her back to her hotel, making her walk on the inside, near the buildings, since it was 'gentleman-ly' of him to do so.

They hugged goodbye and Flick disappeared inside the hotel, heading back up to her room. The modern technology of New York never ceased to amaze her; she loved riding the elevator, even if it was quite terrifying sometimes.

It wasn't long before she got settled in her room again that she heard a very familiar knock on her window. Flick sighed and then stood up, pushing the window open, staring into the face of Spinner, who was smoking a cigarette and leaning back against the railing of the fire escape.

"You going to come in, then?" she asked quietly.

"No. You can come out here," he told her.

With a sort of annoyed sigh, Flick climbed out the window and leaned against the railing beside him, facing forward out into the alleyway while he faced the her window, still smoking quietly beside her.

"So, are you going to explain where the hell you've been?" Spinner asked, keeping his emotions in check, though Flick knew he was boiling under his skin.

"I've been round," Flick said, frowning. "Why does that matter to you? I'm not your girl anymore."

"You're not my girl because you left, _Katie_," Spinner said, turning to face her completely, spitting her Christian name like it was poison. "And now when I ask where you've been all I get is a 'I've been round'? What the hell did I ever do to get you to treat me this way?"

"You're a damn addict, Robbie. That's why I left. My damn parents were addicts, and you think I was going to stick around and let you die in front of me? I don't think so!" Flick burned him with her eyes, turning to face him as well. "Opium isn't something to mess around with. How many damn times did Conlon and I wait for you outside Chin's while you were getting high? Honestly, Robbie! Don't make this my fault. Don't you dare."

"It is your fault, you heartless bitch," Spinner muttered at her. "You left me at the lowest point in my life. You _knew_ I was having problems. You knew that, Katie! But you left me. You left, and now you're back. Why _did_ you come back, Katie? Why don't you enlighten me?"

"I came back because running away never solves anything," Flick said, glaring at him.

"Right. But you can be gone for a year and not once think about the shit you left behind. You left so much shit behind, and I had to clean it up. I was in love with you, Katie!"

This knowledge stalled her for a bit, surprising her. He couldn't have loved her. All he liked was the sex. That's why he kept coming back to her, because she always welcomed him back into her bed, because she liked the attention he gave her, liked the way he made her feel. But love? Yeah. Right.

"It hardly matters anymore, does it, Robbie? You have issues and you're an addict. I can't be with you anymore," she said.

"That's just fine with me. It's not like you were with me completely to begin with," Spinner said, tossing his cigarette out. "I hope you have a lovely time in New York, Flicker."

So she was Flicker again. Fantastic. "Thank you. I plan to."

Spinner started down the fire escape and then frowned, turning back to her. "You know, I wonder how many friends in Manhattan you'd have if they knew the real story between us and not whatever garbage you fed them when we broke up."

Flick bristled and glared at the back of his head as she walked down her fire escape and slunk out of sight, probably off to get high down in the Points. She stood there for a long few moments, blood boiling, and then went back inside, shutting her window and locking it afterwards, not getting a wink of sleep that night.

* * *

**I suck at writing cliffhangers and such, but I wanted to leave it open so you all could try and figure out the odd dynamics between Flick and Spinner. Since that's fun; at least for me, it is. Sighhh. I love writing. xDD.**

**Oh! And I threw in a little bit of ( very subtle ) love for my super friendie Joker is Poker with a fackin' long name xD ( I love you! ). Hopefully she catches it, since she'd be the ONLY one who could. ;) It pays to be my friend. You show up in my writing. xDDD**

**Love me with many a review for my hard work? :)**

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked**_


	4. Chapter Four

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_It's an interesting thing, love. Writers have delved into its depths, using flowery words and silly things like giving meanings to flowers and certain ways to hold your fan. Love seems a distant shore to me, someplace far off that you can see through the mist across the river. I've never understood love. It seems irrational, ridiculous, stupid._

_He came late a night, looking exhausted and hungry for me. He stumbled through the window, his pants unzipped all ready. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, watching him. With effort, he crossed the room and dropped himself on his knees before me, breathing hard. He kissed my knee like a slave would kiss his Queen's feet to beg for mercy before she put him to death._

_I giggled._

_He looked up then, wincing. "You make me do this, Katie," he hissed, out of breath. "You build me up and then... then you laugh."_

_I shook my head, hands folded like a little church girl. "I wasn't laughing."_

"_Well, it wasn't a power-laugh, was it, Katie? It wasn't a show-off laugh to show me who is who here. You were just _laughing_ at me."_

_I played him like a fiddle. "Are you very angry with me?"_

"_Angry?" he muttered, his body jerking spasmodically, like a shudder. "You're... an animal, Katie. This isn't even real, this isn't even love. It's like you don't feel anything. It's like..."_

_He pounced on me then, not wasting any time. My dress was off my body before I could even blink. He climbed atop me, holding my wrists down above my head with his hand, so he could tug his pants off with the other._

_I glared at him. I hated it when he pinned me down. It left me weak, vulnerable. He took me with force, knocking my knees apart without warning._

_He was driving out the demons with every thrust._

_Afterward, he collapsed on top of me, curled into my back with his arm around my middle. He played with my fingers for a moment, breathing against my spine. I was delirious from his utter need of me. Some time later, as I was teetering on the edge between sleeping and waking, I thought I heard him speak:_

"_I hate you, sometimes."_

* * *

Flick awoke in degrees. An arm was curled around her waist, his mouth at her shoulder, breathing humid air across her skin. His arm around her felt like metal, a molten steel band that choked her, holding her back from the Queen of Hearts' garden in Wonderland.

A spring breeze ruffled across the peaceful atmosphere, rousing her sleeping lover. He sighed, kissing the back of her neck, his nose pushing her hair around on her bare back.

"We did the wrong thing last night," Flick murmured, careful not to accuse him with her words, even though it was his fault, in her eyes.

"Mm, I know," he agreed, kissing her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Something terrible swelled in her chest. She was a glutton for his easy submission. "It's all right. I forgive you."

She felt Spinner smiling against her skin. "I love you, Katie."

He tightened his grip on her, like a knight would when declaring his love for his fair maiden, promising to fight off dragons and her step father to have her hand in marriage or simply to kiss her face. If only he knew how tightly the mask fit to her face. She couldn't imagine taking it off, because inside, she was nothing.

Flick always fancied herself a cold, pale slug inside a soft, sweet girl body. Her soft, dark ringlets, the swell of her breasts, the round of her hips – they were all smoke and mirrors, simple props in her magic show that were put away and taken out when needed, to fool certain people. It was fantastic how people could be fooled by a pretty face.

Eventually, after seeing the time, the two lovers got up, dressing each other carefully, exchanging smiles. Flick held Spinner's hand, walking quietly beside him across the Bridge, waiting until he bought his papers.

"I'll probably see you tonight, Katie," he told her, placing his goodbye kiss on her cheek. "I love you."

She smiled and watched him walk down the street, calling out headlines as he went. Flick turned and headed back towards the Bridge, passing a young, lower-class couple sitting on a bench. They were holding hands, but the young man has his body angled away from the girl whose hand he was holding.

The young woman was crying, blubbering on about how she wished they could spend more time together. The young man looked embarrassed for her, throwing around her misery. He didn't want to be there. He was humoring her.

The girl kept wailing on, but his eyes were distant, calculating the earliest time he could go and see his new lover who was waiting patiently at home for him to meet her family. The girl he was with was flaunting her weaknesses around, showing him the large hole in her chest, begging him to plug it up, stop the bleeding, make her happy.

Flick smiled and thought,_ Amateur._

* * *

It was an odd thing, Flick decided. Robbie seemed to always bring this monster out inside her. Who would have thought such a seemingly nice girl was so ugly and twisted inside? Flick knew what she was. She was this horrible snake inside, twisting around threateningly in the grass, waiting for fresh flesh to strike.

Yet, the mask was back in place the second she saw Angel and some girls she didn't know heading towards her on the sidewalk, all carrying their newspapers. Once they reached each other, Angel invited her to come with them all downtown, since they were going o watch the fights and hopefully sell their papers to the watchers.

Flick thought it annoying, since it seemed like one of those awkward 'we know you so we'll invite you alone even though we didn't intend to.' She walked along with them as the girls introduced themselves to her, telling her their ridiculous 'newsie names' as if she cared. _How annoying,_ she thought.

She moseyed around with the girls, smiling slightly when one smiled at her. They called out their wares, making up fake headlines sometimes or simply improving one that seemed boring with a fun, ear-catching word thrown into the actual headline. This life seemed mundane to Flick.

She wondered what Robbie was up to, if he was thinking of her, thinking of the way she shuddered last night when he took her forcefully, made all the right noises because she knew it would please him. However, Flick had to admit, it wasn't the sex that blew her mind, it was just seeing his face. At one point, she could remember glancing down between her legs and wishing he would just _stop_.

Lunchtime came quickly since they were killing time, but no one seemed to have enough for lunch, so the girls sold the rest of their papers late into the afternoon. Flick had grown bored a long time ago, so she was happy when dinnertime came, since everyone had made enough money to get dinner, or something like it.

"I should get going, guys. Max is probably wondering where I am," Flick said, as they all headed towards some nice little diner the newsies were welcomed in regularly.

"Okay, sure. Will we see you later, then?" Angel asked, smiling at Flick.

"Probably not. Probably going to go and see what Spinner's up to," she told them, smiling slightly. "We made up last night."

"Oh, I see," Angel said, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. "Then nevermind. Have a nice night, Flick."

Flick gave Angel a nice, big fake smile and then parted with the girls, dropping the happiness from her face so quickly you would've thought she had been acting all her life. She shuffled back to her hotel, finding Max's room across the hall from hers. She knocked on the door and smiled when he came to it.

"Did we rehearse today?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Nope. Figured I'd give you some time to, uh, get reacquainted with New York, if you know what I mean." He gave her a cheeky look and she realized she wouldn't be getting in trouble.

"Oh, I see," she said, staring blankly at him.

"I'm giving you a few days to settle back in, but then it's back to work and you have to go back to school," he told her, giving her a stern look. He wasn't more than a few years older than she, but he acted like a father or an elder brother most of the time.

"All right. Calm your pants," Flick said, giving him a silly look. "A few days tops. Sounds good. Thanks very much."

"Sure thing, dear. Now get going. Get something to eat," he told her and promptly shut the door right in her face.

Thing was, dinner didn't interest her in the least. She wanted to get back to Robbie.

Flick ambled from her hotel again, wrapping her arms around herself, wishing she had trouser pockets to shove her hands into. She found Mott Street quite easily, having traveled the road one too many times looking for the addict himself.

She found him outside Chin's den, drinking from a dark brown bottle. Ah, so he wasn't getting high, just drinking his Laudanum, a sick mixture of his beloved opium and alcohol, something he drank when he really wanted to get high but he was putting it off, but knew he needed to please his Katie first, or else she wouldn't grant him the privilege of getting high.

"Gimme a second, Katie," Robbie said, seeing her approaching. He tipped back the last of his disgusting mixture and the stood up.

Flick watched in annoyance as he came to her, pressing his hand against the small of her back, tugging her in so he could catch her lips with his own. She could taste the odd anise flavor on his tongue as it pushed against hers.

And, vaguely disgusted, Flick pulled back and smiled at him. "Do you want me?" she asked innocently.

With a hot coil of delight around her middle, Robbie bent to kiss her again. "Yes."

* * *

_**So my muse decided to change her mind during this chapter, forcing me to get darker. This could turn out good, because I've always wanted to try my hand at a psychological story. I like those sorts of novels and films. Hopefully you guys like this new direction as well. :)**_

_**Love me with a review?**_

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked**_


	5. Chapter Five

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Katie Allen knew she wasn't born innocent. Babies were often used as the symbol for innocence. They were fresh and sweet-faced, they could do no wrong. They were not horrible creatures with sharp teeth and claws, scratching their way out. They would giggle and gurgle, blinking their unfocused eyes. Katie couldn't remember a time when she didn't think in such twisted ways.

Her instincts were vicious – predatory – from the beginning. Unformed wisps of violent fantasy from her childhood survived inside her seventeen year old mind, reminding her always of her utter lapse of sanity. Of how incredibly wrong everything in her life was.

Katie could remember sitting in the corner of the yard in the orphanage – seven or eight years old, at least – imagining tying up the other children with skipping rope. She would giggle sometimes, imagining the way they would beg her to let them up.

The horrible thing was, these violences she would conjure in her head came from nothing. There was no reason. She'd not seen violence on a regular basis, was not a victim of child sexual abuse, she had not been neglected.

No. Katie knew the perversion, the _evil_, came from inside her. It was her personal evil. A boy her age taught her how to play Potsy so that she could join them. She could remember the other children letting her win a few times before she decided she enjoyed the game.

The first day of her return to school, Flick woke up alone. She was not used to this, having grown accustomed to Spinner waking up beside her. The sheets next to where she lay were rumpled from his body, his side of the blankets folded back as if he had set them there and got out in haste. The idea itself annoyed her.

She dressed herself in a prim, white cotton dress, pinned tight her loose ringlets into a fashionable bun, and then went downstairs to enjoy her breakfast in the hotel's common room. With a saccharin smile, Flick removed herself from the room when she was finished, practically stalking out the front doors until she saw Robbie leaning against the brick and mortar outside, smoking a cigarette.

"I thought you'd left," she said, after a moment. It disgusted her that she'd been worried like this, and angry with Robbie for making her feel this way.

There was a miserable edge to him, though he smiled widely in welcome of her. "Couldn't leave you, Katie. Not even if I tried." There was a gruffness in his tone, though she knew it wasn't because of the heaps of cigarettes he'd smoked over the years.

While his proclamation was thrilling, and she'd worded her thoughts in the same careful way she always did to elicit this response from him, it annoyed her that he still looked forlorn. As if bowed down by a great weight, Robbie returned to his cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"Did I do something wrong, Robbie?" These words, carefully chosen to sound as if she were insecure with herself, spouted from her lips before she could agree to speak them. Perhaps something soft inside wanted to know what was wrong with him, but the filth caking her brain made it come out twisted.

"D'you..." He paused, and she found that him tripping over his words was delightful. "D'you ever think we did the wrong thing, getting back together? I mean, sometimes I wonder..."

Flick didn't like this question. She hated it, in fact. She wanted to slap him for asking, making her face things she didn't want to. It was annoying and stupid. So she chose to hurt him back.

"Sometimes, I wonder that, too," she said, keeping her voice meek, like a lover conveying to her One True Love that things may be going sour and she is frightened for the well-being of the relationship. Just like the woman last week with her boyfriend in Brooklyn.

Spinner sort of nodded and then tossed his cigarette away with a sigh. He walked over to where Flick stood and took her hand, bending low to press a kiss to her knuckles, like a proper gentleman. It was a fierce thing, and it seemed to declare everything all at once: _I love you, but we can't, we shouldn't..._

Then, with sudden swiftness, Spinner turned on his heel and shuffled away from the East Side, towards his true place in Brooklyn with Spot and his newsies. Flick watched him go until David Jacobs arrived.

David was a lovely boy, learned in school and spoke eloquently enough that Flick could appreciate it. She hated the drawl of the New York-esque accent almost as much as she hated the Bostonian accent. Then again, almost everything had annoyed Flick at some point in her life, if not constantly.

"Hello, Flicker," David greeted her, when he reached suitable speaking range.

Flick sort of half-smiled. "It's Katie, David. No teacher in his right mind would call his pupil 'Flicker'. Though that would be great. I like my nickname."

"So do I. Katie." Flick watched David blush as he said this, adding her name as an afterthought. Charming, really.

They reached the school building in enough time for Flick to inform the woman in the office that she was new and would require a classroom assignment. Once given one, she shuffled along the hallways until she found it. She was given a seat assignment, a few assorted textbooks and told to sit down.

The students around her looked lethargic, chins propped in hands, scribbling away notes or doodling on the corners of textbook pages. School did interest Flick, mostly history, when they talked about wars. She thought that was the most interesting thing taught in schools.

Flick was thankful Max didn't require her to go to some girls' polishing school, where she would learn sewing, cooking, baby-making, and etiquette. It sounding quite boring, and she was glad to be in this sort of education instead of learning how to be a boring old maid.

The school day passed quite swiftly, which Flick was thankful for. She had a fair mound of homework to complete, but that would be easy. Having a private tutor gave her an edge over her fellow students, having been a bit more advanced than most of them. This suited her fine. Flick always did feel as if she were more advanced than most adults.

_Perhaps I am an old maid hiding in a young girl's body,_ Flick thought. She certainly did feel very old sometimes.

She meandered back to her hotel room, setting her things down so she could go and find Swifty and bother him for a bit. Maybe she'd go to Brooklyn and bother Spot and Spinner. Maybe.

Swifty was first, though. She found him on the corner of the street, shouting something about some headline but it was all garbled in Flick's head, probably because she didn't care too much about it. She thought, almost in a fickle way, that she should write a novel, anonymously, about this wicked, twisted life she led, fooling all those with eyes to see her.

"Flick!" Swifty called, surprised and happy to see her, it seemed. This pleased her. _Everyone_ should be happy to see her.

"Hi, Swifty. How's business?" she asked him, giving him a hug like normal. They sat down together on a nearby bench.

"Eh, it's all right. Might pick up now since you're here," he told her, grinning.

"Ahhh, so I'm only here to help your selling then?" she asked, her tone teasing, but her intent serious. Could everyone in her world be playing the same convoluted game as she? Instantly paranoid, she looked away.

"No! No, not at all, Flick," Swifty said hurriedly, sounding like he didn't want to upset her further. As if he could. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. Don't worry," she said carefully.

They moved on to lighter subjects, but Flick soon grew bored with Swifty. They kept getting interrupted by customers wanting to buy a paper, so Flick excused herself and went on her merry way towards Brooklyn to find Spinner.

"_What the hell's wrong with you, Katie? I don't even know who you are sometimes!"_

_Robbie was shouting at me again, holding my my shoulders and shaking me violently sometimes. He was high, of course. Wasn't he always anymore? Spittle formed in the corner of his mouth and his eyes stared without seeing. He was a ghost with a beating heart._

_Hot hysteria rose in my throat. "Robbie, let go," I whispered._

"_NO!" he roared. "You don't get to order me around anymore, Katie. I'm your boyfriend, not your lap dog. You're sick, Katie. You're sick and you need help."_

"_You're the one yelling!" I shouted suddenly. "You're high, Robbie! You don't even know what you're talking about! So just shut the hell up!"_

_I gasped as he gripped my throat, squeezing down hard. He stared straight into my soul. "I know what you are, Katie Allen. One day soon, I will expose you for the sick, twisted animal you are. And you'll be sorry."_

_Confirming his awful words, I turned my head and bit down on his wrist. Hard. He yowled like a wounded animal and staggered backward, shouting oaths into the heavens. I took off running out of the hotel, down the streets until I reached the Lodging House. I begged Kloppman to let me see Swifty, who came barreling down the staircase to hold onto me tightly._

_He saw the bruises that had fingerprints to them on my neck and my shoulders and promised to never let anyone hurt me, especially not Robbie. Poor, stupid fool of a newsboy. How I have deceived you all so!_

When Flick reached the docks, she peered straight into the sun since Spot Conlon and his girl Angel sat on their little rafter throne, enjoying the breeze that came off the harbor nearby. "Hello, kids. Told you I'd come round," she said, to announce my presence.

"Flick!" Angel crowed and then jumped down from Spot's side, losing her footing a bit on the landing. Stupid child. "It's great to see you again, Flick. Have you come looking for someone?"

She blinked at the cheery girl. "Spinner, actually. Have you seen him?"

Spot eased down then, landing ten times more smoothly than the angel had. "Probably Amity Street in Cobble Hill. He changed spots a few months back."

Flick nodded and forced a lovely grin. "Figured he had. Thanks for the tip-off."

Angel grabbed her arm before she could turn away. Flick felt vaguely disgusted. "Mind if I come with you? Got some things to do down that way."

Shrugging the shoulder of the arm Angel had hold of to get her hand off, Flick nodded. "Sure. I don't mind at all."

Spot and Angel said their goodbyes, acting as if they'd never see each other again – which irritated Flick greatly – and then they were finally off on their way. Angel had this odd trait in which she felt the need to fill in the silence with words. Flick abhorred this, and was sorry she'd allowed the girl to come along, though she gave appropriate "mhm"s and "oh really?"s when needed.

Finally, they reached Amity Street, which was a lovely little block in Cobble Hill, which itself was a rather well-off part of Brooklyn, surprisingly. They found Spinner in the middle of Amity Street, hanging off a lamp post and shouting headlines quite loudly, gaining attention as usual.

"Ah, my two favorite girls," Spinner said, when he noticed the pair of them.

Angel grinned and then laughed as he picked her up and kissed her cheek playfully. "Oh, will you quit it, Jackson? Conlon will wring your neck if he finds out about this," she stage-whispered dramatically.

"I shall fight loads of Conlons just to be by your side, milady!" Spinner proclaimed, like a knight would, for all to hear.

Flick watched the two of them interact with incredible disgust. It was then that she realized how much she truly hated that Angel girl.

* * *

_**This chapter was sort of hard to write. There are so many faces of Flick's character that it's almost like I can't even keep up, and I created her. Oi vay. xD However, I'm g**__**lad people are enjoying my new psychological twist. I like it, too. ;) Oh, and a side note: Potsy is what the New Yorkers used to call hopscotch. Yay for historical references! :)**_

_**Oh! And to my friendie Elaine, I shall put Mirror in SHADE because I don't think Flick would appreciate her very much. Flick don't appreciate anyone. -_-**_

_**Love me with a review?**_

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked**_


	6. Chapter Six

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

_I could remember the first time Robbie ever told me about his mother, in full. I would bother him about it sometimes, in bed, but he would always wave me off. This did not suit me. Robbie wasn't allowed to keep secrets from me. So I told him a spun one of mine._

"_You know, when I was younger, in the orphanage, I would bully the other children. I liked making them squirm," I confessed on night, after one of our many passionate moments, because every lie has a bit of truth to it._

"_Ever heard of the idea that people always go for the kind of person that their opposite sex parent was like?" Robbie mused. "That explains everything."_

_I blinked. A breakthrough. "Your mother was a bully?"_

"_When I made her angry, she would boil water and shove my head in it. Our house was built a long time ago, so there was this whipping post out back that was used to tie slaves to so they could get whipped. Sometimes she tied me up and whipped me, leaving me there for hours," he said in a small voice._

_I am surely and animal, for all I could think of was: That's it?_

"_When she shoved my head in the water, I thought about filling my lungs, drowning to make her right. But I'm a coward, Katie. I couldn't do it," he finished._

_And then, he began to cry. I was mortified and disgusted. This didn't suit me either. Crying made Robbie less than a coward. It made him pathetic. However, I saw that the only card I could play was sympathy, so I held tight to him and cooed while he sobbed on my shoulder._

"_Oh, my baby. My poor, sweet baby," I purred, making it so that my love was enough for him, what he craved._

_Then when, deep into the night, he had calmed and his sobs dissolved into deep, peaceful sleep-sighs, I swallowed him whole. I absorbed him into my bloodstream and he circled around inside me, endlessly._

* * *

After a few minutes of playful banter, Angel excused herself to run her errands and Flicker stood off to the side, watching Spinner sell the rest of his papers with the gusto of a newly crowned ten year old newboy, wide-eyed and ready to begin a life of freedom. Every once and a while, he would turn and give her a secret wink, which she would accept with a little smile of her own.

Flick had a show tonight in Midtown, which she was excited about. It was her second show since the night she returned to New York and it was a long time coming. Flick craved the stage, craved the mystique she enjoyed putting off on the audiences by simply being the 'lovely assistant'. It was quite a bit different than Robbie's Katie or Swifty's Flicker, which is why the stage was so thrilling. Once on it, you could be anyone you wanted to be and the masks all fit perfectly.

Eventually, Spinner sold all of his papers and Angel returned, so the threesome decided to head to the popular newsie hangout for lunch, a restaurant called Tibby's. Spinner talked animatedly to Angel about something and Flicker walked a good two paces behind them, seething. Not like it should have bothered her. Flick had nothing in common with newboys, having never been on herself.

Oddly enough, being left out put her off in the strangest way.

They all entered the resturant together, to loud cheers and 'hello's but Flick removed herself from them to go and join Swifty, Blick and Mush who were all sitting together. One her way, Flick caught David's eye and she gave him a wink, which caused him to blush.

"Hello, boys," Flick said brightly, sitting down beside Swifty, who promptly gave her a big hug.

"Hey, Flick," Blink and Mush chorused, around mouthfuls of food.

Flick enjoyed her friends for a moment until Les, the incredibly adorable child that came up to her on her first night back, scampered up to her as if she were Jesus himself.

"Flicker!" he exclaimed, hugging her.

Flick resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead patted the kid on his head. "Hello, you. Back for another trick, yes?"

"I don't think so, kid. Let the woman breathe," Swifty said defensively.

Flick waved her friend off. "S'all right, Swifty dear," she told him and then turned to Les. "So did you want to see one, then?"

Les nodded enthusiastically. "If you don't mind, Miss Flick."

She grinned. "Miss Flick. I adore that."

"Hey everyone! Flick's gonna do another trick" Les shouted and all the newsies gathered round to see what she would do next.

"Need cards again, Flick?" Race asked, reaching into his vest to provide them for her.

Flick smiled up at him. "Not this time, Racey, but thanks," she said and then turned to the excited newsies that were watching. "What I do need is... Spot's hat."

"Anything for you, doll," Spot said, removing his hat to hand to her. Angel, who stood beside him, ran an affectionate hand through his messy hair, smiling when he gave her a sort of embarrassed look.

"Thank you," Flick said, setting it before her on the table, so the hollow inside was showing. "Now, have I told you yet of our recent trip to London? No, probably not. Anyways. Max does this trick all the time, which he's quite famous for, and then Queen and her daughter are always very stumped by it. This time, however, she employed another magician to watch Max do this trick. Funny thing was, she still didn't learn where the ice came from."

With that, Flick lifted the hat to show off the large block of ice sitting under Spot's hat, that looked almost too big to fit comfortably underneath. The newsies cheered and Flick returned to the hat, simpering under their praise as she always did.

Spinner tossed his head over to their table and Flick excused herself from the boys to go and sit with Spinner, Spot and Angel.

"Your tricks are amazing, Flicker. Where do you find the time to learn all of them? You must be so very busy," Angel said, propping her chin in her palm, looking incredibly interested.

In her head, Flick slapped her, hard. "I've seen all of Max's tricks too many times to count. After a while, I just demanded he tell me the secrets behind them and they just came. Magic tricks are all about illusion and sleight of hand. Make the audience think you're doing one thing and then suckerpunch them with something totally different."

"It's truly fascinating," Angel said, looking quite enamored by it all.

"Well, she's doing a show tonight in Midtown, Ang," Spinner supplied, setting his arm over the back of Flick's chair, leaning back in his own. "You and Brooklyn should pop in. My treat."

Flick could've killed him.

Angel's lips pulled into a grin and she turned it on Spot. "We have to go. She's thrilling."

Spot smirked at Spinner. "Sure, if you got it covered."

"My treat, Your Highness," Spinner said, doffing his cap.

Flick nodded slowly to herself. "Well, if you'll all excuse me, I need some fresh air," she said politely and then pushed back from the table.

"I'll come with you. I need a smoke anyway," Angel said, pushing out as well, smiling when Spot handed her a freshly rolled cigarette from his pocket.

Flicker seethed again as she walked outside, Angel hot on her heels. "I'm really excited to see you and Max perform tonight. I think magic is just too appealing. Have you been on stage long? I'm a dancer myself, you see."

With an irritated tic of her eye, Flicker turned to face Angel as she leaned against the wall away from the windows, smoking. "Angel, why do you insist on talking to me as if we are old friends?"

Angel looked shocked. "I'm told you knew Spot very well. I suppose I'm just being nice, and I like you."

"Well it pisses me off. Quit talking to me, for God's sake. And stay the hell away from Spinner," she told Angel, deathly calm.

Angel was not amused. "What the hell crawled up your ass?"

Flick marched up to Angel and smiled a smile that was akin to Lucifer. "Do not try my patience, Angel. You will not like the outcome. Believe you me."

"What are you going to do?" This girl had some serious balls. Or she was just stupid. "Leave me?"

Flicker didn't stop to think. Her hand whipped out and slapped Angel in the mouth. The cigarette dropped from her fingers and the girls glared at each other.

"Stay the hell outta my way and we won't have to have another discussion such as this," Flick said calmly. "Clear?"

Angel's eyes flashed, defiant but quiet about it. "Crystal."

Flick smiled then and the bell of Tibby's sounded. Both girls turned to see Spinner and Spot strolling out, both of them sort of smirking at their own conversation.

"Spinner, will you walk me to Midtown? I have to be there early," Flick said, leaving Angel against the wall to ease closer to him.

"Sure, love. See you later Conlon, Ang," Spinner said, tipping his hat to them.

As they were walking away, Flicker could hear Spot ask Angel "Why's your cheek all red?" Flick just grinned.

When they reached Midtown, Flick received her kiss on the cheek. "Are you going to get high before my performance?" she asked quietly.

Robbie sighed and looked down at his shoes. "Why do you always make it sound like I'm doing something awful?"

"Smoking opium isn't awful?" Katie asked, sounding surprised. She tilted her head and then folded her arms, looking like a disapproving mother.

"So what did you and Angel have a chat about?" Robbie asked nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh, you know, girl stuff," she said, frowning. "So you're getting high then?"

She wanted him to say it to her. Confession made everyone uncomfortable and she lived to put him in these sort of situations, so he would cling to her more than he should.

"Yes, Katie. But not for long. I want to see you, too," he said quietly.

Katie nodded, as if this troubled her. "I'll see you at eight then."

"You're angry with me." Robbie made a loud noise of frustration. "Is nothing I do good enough for you?"

"Don't make this my fault. I'm not the addict." Katie watched him. "Just go. I'm not going anywhere. You should know that by now."

He bent and kissed her, gently. "I love you."

She smiled. "You, too."

Katie watched him leave, waving each time he turned around, as if he were waiting for her to disappear. She turned and walked into the performance hall, smiling at how lavish it was. Definitely a high class crowd tonight, which meant more money and a higher paycheck. Fantastic.

"Miss Allen!" Mr. Katz, the stage manager, exclaimed.

Katie grinned. "Mr. Katz, how lovely to see you again," she said politely.

"Ah, still as sweet as ever," Mr. Katz said, bending to press a kiss to her knuckles, as if she were some high class girl. "I've set up your dressing room, your favorite at the end of the hallway."

"You're too kind," she said, curtseying politely before she excused herself to go to her dressing room.

Once inside, she closed the door and sighed. Not two seconds later, she heard a soft scratching on the backstage door near her own door. Annoyed at being disturbed, Katie left the room to investigate and found that it was a stray kitten outside. When she opened the door, it looked up at her and mewled pitifully.

That's when she noticed it was limping, its left side all bloodied. With a sort of twisted smile, Katie picked the pitiful thing up, looked around the hallway and then locked herself in her dressing room again.

She took the weak little kitten into her bathroom and, smiling, filled up the deep sink with hot water. She was still incredibly angry. Angel was the start but Robbie getting high was the straw that broke the camel's back. Being passive aggressive as she was, she was going to get pay back. But first, she need instant gratification.

All the rage had build up inside her and she had to let it go somehow. With the sink full of hot water, Katie shoved the cat under the water. It scratched and clawed for it's tiny life but she held it steadfastly, mind blank, until it went limp in her hands.

It was with gentle hands that she tore a bit of old costume, a little bit of silk, and wrapped the kitten up until it was covered. She placed it inside a hat box, tied it with ribbon and then went out the backstage door to deposit it into the trashcan.

* * *

_**This is my favorite chapter so far. Flick is so effin' twisted. I just love it. Anyways, what do you think of Flick? Honestly. Do you like her? Do you hate her? I'm curious.**_

_**Love me with a review?**_

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked**_


	7. Chapter Seven

**SICK OF SHADOWS**

* * *

**But in her web she still delights  
To weave the mirror's magic sights,  
For often thro' the silent nights  
A funeral, with plumes and lights  
And music, went to Camelot:  
Or when the moon was overhead,  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half-sick of shadows," said  
The Lady of Shalott.**

**~ from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_My first time, when Robbie finally took my innocence, I knew then, in full, just how completely disturbed I really was._

_His eyes were closed the moment he pushed inside. I winced, involuntarily, still not practiced enough to have control over silly responses. I wondered if he was more nervous than I. A few moments later, Robbie withdrew, seeming to have registered the fact that I'd made a sort of painful noise._

"_I'm trying to be gentle," he said, gazing anxiously down at me. "Am I hurting you?"_

"_No," I lied easily, smiling as I reached up to pat his cheek like a child. "It's really lovely."_

_My hands on your shoulders enjoyed very much the sweat that made his skin damp. My ears enjoyed his labored breathing, the little half-words that broke from his throat. My eyes, turned downwards, feasted upon the sight of your belly shivering in its descent towards my belly._

"_I love you," he hissed at me, barring his teeth as if strained by his desire to take it slow. He bent to my shoulder and breathed hot coal in my ear. "I love you."_

_I wondered how long this usually took. It just seemed to drag and drag._

_At last, my reward for being so patient. He tensed and shuddered, his eyes wide and glazed over like a corpse. He seemed to sort of flutter and then fell, falling over me like a mis-baked souffle. His skin was slick with sweat, mine was slick from the multi-sensory perversion going on in my head. Our skin stuck together and, in the morning, we had to pry ourselves loose._

_My first time was a trial run. I watched the way he reacted, cataloging each twitch, each grimace, each sigh of ecstasy, as a spy would when gathering information about the enemy so as to use it to build the perfect weapon against them. With each time, my moves became more calculated, more deliberate, though subtle._

_I couldn't have Robbie finding out how truly disgusting I was. I had to keep the Katie in his head innocent and seemingly taken advantage of. I had to. It was all I had._

_Without the Katie he thought I was, he would have been long gone._

* * *

"Okay, so, the war of 1812. Who fought it and why were they fighting?" David asked from behind his History textbook.

He had invited Flick over to his apartment to study for an exam with him but she could see his thinly veiled excuse to get her to come around more often. David was a new challenge for her, not as jaded as Robbie was with her, it seemed. He was an innocent mind, and its Siren song entranced her.

Flick didn't desire to corrupt him; not outright. Her longing came from the fact that he was just like Robbie at one time, innocent and fresh, not embittered by the harsh street and his mother that had jaded him for the rest of his life.

She believed, at some time in his life, Robbie was a very good person. But now, he was an addict. In more ways than one. Not that she was any different. They were both addicts, and fed on each other, like addicts do.

"David, you and I both know you didn't want me to come over to study with you," Flick said bluntly.

She didn't have to try so hard to color her words. Though her mask was still on, she didn't have to try so hard to convince David that she was someone better than she was; he believed she was innocent and good.

"Right. You're right," David said, sputtering just a little in the wake of his shock. She could practically see his thoughts through his eyes. He was charmed but unaware, just like the others.

"So why am I here?" Flick asked, sitting back in her chair slowly.

"I just... like talking to you."

These words, chosen in this order, confused her. Flicker's mind did not register the meaning of these words, this sentence. What was he admitting? What was he admitting that he wasn't saying? It didn't make any sense to her. So she used a tactic she learned by being around Robbie and playing her game with him.

"I think I'd like to go to South America," she said casually, glancing down at her fingernails.

David cracked a smile. "Oh, yeah?"

Aha! So it worked. Being charmingly aloof worked on Robbie and now it worked on David. She stored this information away for use later.

"Yes," she said, nodding slightly. "I could buy a small country and start a tin-pot dictatorship. I would have a General named Enrico and pay my mercenary army in drug money."

Because David liked her, he smiled despite her odd fantasies that she was voicing to him. She could practically taste his thoughts:_ She's so curious and clever but oh so odd..._

"I could come with you and write propaganda for you." He was being shy all of a sudden. He wanted to play, too.

"No," Flick said blithely, refusing to let him play. "I'll draw my own posters and write my own propaganda. I'll live in a hacienda and spend my time founding a dynasty so that I can assassinate them one by one."

"Can't I come and wave you with a palm leaf to keep you cool?" David asked, watching her face, her eyes, entranced by the odd being that was her.

"No. You're name's not Chico," she said, shaking her head, as if the position had all ready been filled.

"I could change it. You're name's not..." He struggled to find her a good name.

"I won't need a name," she explained patiently. "I shall go by _El_ something. El Commandore."

After a while, David and Katie ambled out of his parents' apartment and back towards her hotel. Robbie was waiting for them, pacing, outside the front doors, looking as if he were talking to himself. When he noticed them, he looked confused as he crossed the space between them and gathered Katie up as if she'd run from him and was just now returning.

"Where the hell have you been?" he hissed, angry and frightened.

"She didn't tell you she was coming to my house to study? We have an exam tomorrow and..." David rambled, and then faltered. "You told me he knew, Katie."

Katie lifted her innocent eyes to Robbie's heated gaze, smirking. "Must've slipped my mind. I'm sorry, Robbie."

"Either way, thank you for bringing her back, Dave," Robbie said, addressing David, who looked very awkward.

David nodded and then looked away. "I'll see you tomorrow, Katie."

"See you," Katie said sweetly and then shuffled with Robbie into the hotel.

Sometime later, when they were cuddled up in her stiff, old bed, Katie spoke. "Why were you so bent about me not coming home right away?"

"I worry about you," Robbie said quietly.

"I'm not gonna die, Robbie," she informed him casually, shifting slightly so the hand on her knee was forced to slide lower. "One day I wasn't here. That's all it was."

He gripped her ankle passionately, staring at her in the darkness. "I thought, that's it. She's gone."

* * *

_It wasn't his fault, what happened._

_I provoked him, knowing what provocation would reveal in him. He was a scorpion that I poked and prodded into stinging me. Inside, he was very calm, very controlled. Inside, he was no animal. But the animal exists in all of us, lurking, writhing under our skin._

_We control it with corsets and ballets and working and love. But it is there. Lurking._

_He was prepared to be a gentle man. Bowed down by the weight of his mother's abuse, he vowed to himself that he would never hit anyone the way she hit him. The good in him constantly made me want to weep. Standing his ground that he would never be like her, he lulled his sadistic nature to sleep inside him, never wanting to open that door._

_I woke them in him. I did it deliberately. Oh, darling. I am going to hell for it all._

* * *

Katie was vibrating. Her entire body was humming as she sat, on edge, waiting for Robbie to return home. Her show had been long over and now she sat, waiting. She didn't worry. She didn't wonder where he was. She knew exactly where he was. She was beyond furious, blindingly angry.

The knock on the window signaled the return of her lover. It didn't take long for him to realize the window had been left unlocked and he pushed it open and climbed inside, stumbling a little in the wake of his addiction.

There she sat, the gaslight flickering menacingly, her back to him. "So," she began in a deadly voice. "Did you have a nice time?"

"Don't start with me, Katie. I'm tired," he told her, sighing, though he came over to her. He knelt behind her, pushing her long hair over one shoulder so he could kiss her neck. "Mmm, you're mine."

"Oh, just shut the hell up, would you?" Katie barked, standing up. She was punishing him now, for making her wait up, for annoying her, for breathing his stale breath on her neck, for acting like what he was doing was nothing. "Why do you come here when you're this way? Just go home."

"You don't want that, Katie," he said, not getting angry with her. He looked up at her, pupils wide, like a raccoon. "You want me to come see you when you're like this, so you can drag me over the fire. You like it."

"How dare you!" she shrieked, her palm tingling, the desire to slap him, to cause physical pain growing inside her. She was losing control of her facade, of her magic act.

"No, how dare _you_!" Robbie shouted, standing up. He was taller than her, but she didn't shrink back. "I know what you are, Katie. You're sick. You only hate me being high because I think more clearly. I see you clearly like this, Katie Allen, and you hate that. You want me to shrivel up so you can stick me in your pocket. Well, I won't!"

He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her hard against the wall behind her. Katie growled, her teeth barred as she glared up at him, the animal inside her loose. His anger brought out the worst in her, and hearing him speak the truth in the air made her sick.

"You're the one with the problem. You can't haul your ass out of that drug pit for two seconds without feeling guilty about something," she said, throwing barbs out wildly, forgetting herself for a moment.

"You make me feel guilty, Katie. _You do_," he growled at her. "You do it on purpose! You like watching me squirm! You're sick and you're an animal!"

"Then why the hell do you keep coming back to me? If I'm so sick, then you leave. I won't stop you," Katie told him, glaring at him.

He calmed a little, staring right back into her volatile eyes. "You know I can't leave you, Katie. I love you."

"Then quit threatening me as if you are going to leave," she said, still glaring at him. "You can barge in here and start barking at me, Robbie. Have a right to be angry. You didn't even tell me you were going to the Points."

He sighed, hanging his head. He let her shoulders go. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you, Katie."

She watched him, sweating, beaten and broken as he stood before her, spewing his worries and his fears at her face, while she stood, staring blankly at him, as if he were a ghost. And then, she had a strange, prophetic feeling of apprehension.

She saw them on a boat together, in the middle of a storm, trying to plug up a hole that had sprung up in the middle. The waves rocked them, pushing the hole open further.

They would capsize at any moment.

* * *

_**Gahhh. Mucho writer's block from hell. Thankfully, I think I've climbed out of the corner I wrote myself into, so updates should be more frequent. Fingers crossed. I'm thinking this little twisted idea should wrap up soon. Flick drowning the kitten was sort of the turning point. It's only gonna get creepier from here. :]**_

_**On an unrelated note, I wonder how many people that read this wonder if I'm deranged or psycho or something. Don't raise your hand if you think I'm nuts. I can't help it. I'm a Psych major. Being creepy is what I do. I think. ;]**_

_**Love me with a review?**_

_**CTB!**_

_**xx Wicked**_


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